Loving a Lover
by notxherex
Summary: Francis has fallen in love with Arthur whose job isn't one that allows much room to fall in love himself. "Let me buy you again tonight." Includes FrUK and PruK romance! AU!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me.

All characters belong to Himaruya Hidekaz

* * *

The sound of the soothing rain hitting the window wakes Arthur up only to have him stare out at glass paved with water droplets through the crack in between the two curtains. Perfect. He had definitely needed a day like this. Arthur loved the rain that washed away all the bad and brought out the beautiful by making everyone miss the sunlight that shone so wonderfully afterwards.

With a satisfied sigh, he turns a little to glance behind him, the arm around his waist had loosen up during the night. Of this he was sure; he vaguely remembered his partner cuddling up to him the night before. But, sometimes, he blurred between partners and couldn't quite remember who was the one he shared a bed with in the morning. When his sees the other man, though, he let's out a chuckle. Ah, yes, it had been Francis last night, meaning he had been paid quite a bit the night before. The Englishman moves his leg up a bit feel the cum still inside him, starting to drip out as his sudden movement disturbs it. That only proved it more that it had been Francis with him last night; the Frenchman was the only customer allowed to cum inside him after all since he tended to pay more than his other customers. The Frenchman always insisted and Arthur didn't mind him releasing inside him when he paid so much! Plus, this had been going on for quite a while, enough to find that they were both very comfortable around each other. In fact, Arthur could say Francis was one of his favourites. But the money could have added to that.

The man of only twenty-three pushes his hips back against the other's -who was only three years older-, awaiting a response since he knew Francis was awake. He always woke up before him saying something along the lines of paying enough to watch him sleep if he so wanted to.

"Mm," Francis, humming in appreciation, wraps his arm around the smaller man, "let me buy you again tonight." The seemingly odd request was useless and they both knew it. Arthur snorts, knowing Francis' pay schedule. "You don't have any money left." He sits up and stretches his arms out and up, rolling his head around to stretch his neck muscles as well.

The answer makes his current customer frown while his eyes took in the sight before him. The sheets were barely covering Arthur at all, just the most important part really and Francis wanted to yank them off. He wanting Arthur all to himself. It was all he'd ever wanted since he met the man with the shining green eyes. He found him captivating from the first moment they laid eyes on each other. So much so that the Arthur's occupation hadn't scared him off, or disgusted him. Still, wanting a man with such a job all to yourself could take a toll on the heart.

"I'll pay you as soon as I have the money. Come on, Arthur, let me have you again tonight..." He pushes it because he knows that the Englishman knows he always pays, "every night for the week. I promise I'll pay." He removes his arm from around the other's waist and sits up upon seeing that the other is about to get out of bed.

Arthur does, in fact, get out of bed to search in Francis' discarded pant's pocket for a box of cigarettes. "You're going to ruin my business."  
Lighting one, he brings it up to his lips to inhale the rich tobacco and breathe out a puff of smoke as he turns to face Francis. His naked body shining with the afterglow of their sex-it had only been a couple of hours ago since they had their fun after all. The body of the young man was beautiful and Francis wondered how that could be possible in his line of work. Had all of Arthur's customers treated him as gently as he had? With so much care as to not bruise the porcelain-like expanse of skin? "Sorry," Arthur continues, "I need the money now, besides," he walks back to the bed to hand the cigarette to Francis and straddles his hips, only a thin sheet between them, "didn't you have your fun last night?"

Francis frowns turns into a slight pout, agreeing in his head that last night had been fun but he dreaded knowing that any other man could have his fun with Arthur tonight, the next day, any day that he himself didn't have the Briton. Instead of answering, the long-haired blonde brings the cigarette up to his lips to take a long drag out of it and breathes out the smoke out of the corner of his mouth.

Taking the other's silence as an indication that he wanted more, Arthur smirks and scoots down to sit over the Frenchman's thighs, sliding the sheets off of Francis cock as he does. "I see, you're still not satisfied." The green eyed man hums and takes a hold of the other's length, stroking it lazily. "Tell you what, this is for free, but only because I'm in such a good mood."

Letting out a nearly satisfied sigh, Francis takes another drag of the cigarette before leaning over a little to the side to put it out in the dish on the side-table. "You're very kind, Arthur." He purrs as the other slides down lower on his legs and leans down to breathe on the head of Francis' cock.

"Not really." His smirk deepens, running his tongue over the slit and swirling his tongue around the head of the length, knowing how crazy it drove the Frenchman. "I just can't help but feel pity for you when you start whining."

"I do n-" Francis is cut off by his own moan when Arthur takes his whole length in his mouth, quickly resorting to deep-throating him and humming as he does so. The vibrations drive Francis crazy just like always. "S-stop, you're going too fast." He pants, cursing Arthur's talented mouth; he wanted this pleasure, but he also wanted to spend more time with him. But Arthur doesn't stop nor slow down. No, he even moves his hand to fondle his customer s sac, making Francis groan. One thing he enjoyed about his work, if he could even say he liked anything, was listening to his customers' moans and groans, especially when they moaned his own name once they reached orgasm.

The Frenchman places a hand on Arthur's head and lightly tugs at the short, messy hair of his. "Arthur," he moans, "stop." This time, the other obliges and sits back to go back to pleasuring Francis with his hand instead of his mouth, strokes on the shaft lazy. "You get more and more sensitive each time we meet, Francis." He teases, his smirk having relaxed into a simple, content smile. Yes, he loved driving people mad with his body. Especially Francis, who seemed to think it was the other way around when he had the Englishman under him.

Francis' response is to wrap his hand around the back of Arthur's neck and pull him in for a kiss. Of course he was going to cum fast when he was surrounded by Arthur's warm, wet mouth and throat so early in the morning after a night full of hot, passionate sex in which Francis took pleasure in making Arthur cum more than once. If only he would yell out his name when reaching orgasm-things would be perfect then. That is until he woke up and remembered that Arthur still wasn't his and might never be his. The thought was enough to make him want to steal this man away, kidnap him and keep him from view of everyone who might want to sleep with him. But Arthur would surely hate him if he even spoke a word about feeling like this even though he already implied it a lot. Was it even subtle anymore?

Arthur pulls away from the kiss, licking his lips and quickens the pace of his hand as he tightens it just the right amount to help Francis reach his limit; it doesn't take long for the older man to release with a groan.

Chuckling, the smaller man wipes his hand on the already soiled sheets and casually rolls off of Francis onto the bed to lie on his side beside him. "See? That didn't last long at all." Arthur teases, causing the panting man to scowl before he swings his legs off the edge of the bed and stands up. "I'm borrowing your shower."

Humming in response, Arthur rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. It wasn't unusual for this certain customer to act like he was at his own home. He listens to the sound of water hitting the ground both outside and inside; he stays still, until Francis begins to sing and it is then that he leaves the bed in favour of a cup of tea; he also doesn't bother putting anything on before walking out of the bedroom. It was his own house and he could do whatever he wanted.

His tea is made to his liking-to perfection really- and he stands, staring out the window into the back garden. The drops of rains clinging on to the petals of the roses, holding on to dear life but, alas, the drops fall no mater how hard they try.

"Put some clothes on," a French accent disturbs Arthur's thoughts, "you'll catch a cold."

With a snort, the naked of the two turns to face the other and catches the way Francis' eyes slowly drift lower and lower as if he'd never seen him nude before. "I have a reason for being naked." He interrupts Francis' staring.

"And that would be?" Francis crosses his arms and leans against the door frame that leads into the kitchen as his blue eyes stare into green ones. He himself was already dressed after having dried his body and hair after his quick shower.

"Shower." Arthur easily explains before finishing his tea and walking past Francis who turns around to watch him walk away and laughs when the naked man sways his hips a little before laughing along.

He was definitely in a great mood.

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AN: Another multi-chapter fic! This might actually come out much better than the others, or at least I hope so! I've had this chapter done, added some things tonight, but the point is I wasn't going to upload it until I had more chapters done but I've had no motivation to.

So I thought if I upload at least one chapter and people like it, I'll be inspired to write faster than I have been. Sounds good no?

FrUK pairing, obviously. OH! and it's my first M-rated fic! Written and posted. I have rped smut before though. Just saying.

Thanks for reading,

Reviews would be highly appreciated since they make my life happier and help to motivate me. Have a nice day/night!

If you find mistakes, let me know. Some quotation marks were missing when I first uploaded this and I might have missed some. Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

During Arthur's long, relaxing shower, Francis makes breakfast for them both. It wasn't that he was just the type of nice person to do so; it just happened to get him more time with the man he wants to love and have as his very own. It might be a backhanded trick but the other never complained. In reality and unbeknownst to Francis, the Englishman never complained because he was quite the lazy man, but none of his clients knew that since none of them spent personal time with him. Francis had before, but so very little that he never got to see the other sides of Arthur. Still, moments like those-moments where there was only the two of them talking and laughing- were the ones that made Francis the happiest since it was as if he was the only one in the Englishman's life.

Humming as he steps out of the shower, Arthur dries himself, carelessly running the towel over his head and partially drying his hair. It makes him have what would be described as bed hair but he found his customers liked it, and he had always liked it himself. Besides, no amount of brushing or hair product would make it stay down. He dresses as if he's ready to go out at any second and heads to the kitchen to find Francis already setting the plates full of food on the table. Really, everything always seemed to work out perfectly between the both of them. Arthur thought nothing of it; Francis found his heart swell from the pure joy the perfect timing brought him.

"You should really dry your hair properly." Francis comments as they both sit across from each other once he's done pouring tea for Arthur and coffee for him and setting the individual cups by the plates. He would have went to grab a towel and dry the Englishman's hair instead, but he was trying not to seem like he cared too much for Arthur. The Frenchman was afraid the other would figure out his feelings of love and not allow him to buy any more nights with him, no matter the amount of money. The feeling that Arthur hated to complicate things was unjustified, but it was strong nonetheless.

Arthur takes a bite of the food before answering, "It'll most likely get wet after breakfast anyway." He slightly nods in the direction of the window where they could clearly see the rain still coming down. "I'll be going out for a walk."

"In this weather?" Francis raises an eyebrow before smiling at the response he gets.

"Yes," Arthur grins. Showing just how happy he truly was this morning. "In this weather."

Francis begins to eat as well as they fall into silence and he turns his head to look out the window; he had believed even the English hated how much it rained, but he supposed it was just a part of their home and they couldn't truly hate when it came down to it.

"Well," Francis utters with a bit of uncertainty at the end of their meal. What he was about to ask made him slightly nervous but Arthur seemed like he was too good in a mood to say no. He had given him a free blowjob earlier, surely this request wouldn't be too much? With that in mind, he continues on with much more confidence. "May I join you in your walk?"

There is a pause as green meets blue and Francis swears the only noise that both of them can hear is the loud thud of nervousness his heart makes.

"Well you are one of my number one customers," Arthur speaks as a small smirk graces his lips at how formally Francis had questioned him, "I suppose a day with me will do no harm."

"Of course not," he begins, extremely happy but trying to downplay it,"..wait did you say _one_ of your number one customers?"

"Indeed." Arthur's smirk widens, knowing Francis didn't like what he'd just been told. He seemed like such a possessive pervert, not like he was the only customer to do so.

After they finish eating, Arthur insists they leave the dishes where they were because he wanted to leave already. He doesn't admit that he didn't want to wait any longer in case the rain stopped before he had a good chance to enjoy it the way he wanted to. Normally, Arthur wouldn't care to carry an umbrella. Having the rain wash over him was as if he was starting anew; as if he was getting rid of all the sin he refused to think about. As it were, though, he'd already agreed to having Francis come along on his walk so there was no way he could go and get soaked to the bone and come back home almost right after to have a nice quiet day of listening to the pounding of rain on his roof.

Fortunately, he does have more than one umbrella so he lets Francis borrow one, much to the other's disappointment. A day of walking under the same umbrella while it rained all around them was as romantic as they could have gotten without having sex. Not that their sex was all that romantic outside of the Frenchman's imagination.

During the first part of their walk, Francis glances at Arthur more than what would be considered normal since they weren't even talking that much at all. They walk side by side, as close as the umbrellas would permit. But that wasn't to say that Francis didn't wish to be closer. Arthur, on the other hand, was uncaring to how close they were as his thoughts were on the 'purifying' rain. Oh how he wishes to throw his umbrella to the side and just walk, run, hell even _dance_ in the rain.

Francis, finally tearing his eyes off the clueless Englishman, looks around and notices what appears to be a small cafe. Maybe, he could push his luck once again and try to make this moment more date-like. Though he wouldn't be calling it that outloud.

"Arthur, we should-"

"Well if it isn't my favourite bed-mate." Francis hears a loud laugh from behind them and turns in time to see Arthur blush as a really pale man with silver hair and, strangely enough, red eyes grabs a hold of the Englishman's shoulder and turns him to face him causing Francis' eyes widen just a little at the sudden action _and_ seeing the blush from on Arthur's cheeks. Never had he seen him flushed from embarrassment; never had he seen such a cute side to the Englishman outside of bed! At the very moment that Arthur showed this stranger this precious side of him, Francis decided that he did not like whoever this man was.

"Gilbert!" The blushing man scolds. "Don't call me that!" The stranger, now known as (the obnoxious, as Francis had dubbed him) Gilbert, just laughs which makes Arthur sigh before smiling and letting himself be hugged by the stranger. Francis, despite the feeling of dislike towards Gilbert, steps back to watch with curiosity and annoyance at this interruption of his date, or at least what he had been starting to deem as a date, with Arthur. "What are you doing here? I thought you had moved back to Germany?" Arthur questions as he unwraps the other's arms from around his waist.

"Ja, but I'm on holiday. Decided to come back to where I'm comfortable," he leans in to whisper the next part in Arthur's ear, though Francis could still clearly hear him, "and I've missed your warmth, you free tonight?"

Francis was seething underneath his indifferent expression; he had known Arthur had other customers but he never saw them hanging around Arthur, much less acting so cozy with him like he himself did regularly.

The green-eyed man glances at Francis before giving an answer. "I'm spending my day with him right now," he addresses the blonde with a curt lean of his head, not even bothering to give this Gilbert a name, "but you can come over after eight tonight?"

Easily accepting Arthur's answer, Gilbert grins and ruffles Arthur's hair before giving him a loud 'see you later' as he walks away. The meeting between the two friends had been quick, but it obviously would be continuing later on unless Francis did something about it. There really wasn't anything he could do though, not with the little money he had. Arthur doesn't even watch Gilbert leave as he turns to Francis with a quite apology at what he had witnessed. Sometimes Gilbert could be too much for people.

"What a charming fellow." Francis comments once Arthur is back at his side and they continue on their walk.

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To be continued~

Sorry for boring chapter. There will be more smut later on, if that's what disappointed you! I wasn't planning on posting chapter two so soon, been busy with college work and all to the point of exhaustion. But, despite my tiredness, I couldn't sleep so chapter two was born! I'll fix/rewrite if need be. Do keep in mind it's 10 till 4 AM as I type this. More about Gilbert and possibly why Arthur's job is what it is in next chapter! Oh! And I came up with a new FrUK idea that I'm absolutely in love with because I love a jealous Francis! That's all I'm saying for now~

Anyway, I'll try to reply to reviews because I really do appreciate them.

Thank you for all your reviews, favourites, and follows!

Have a nice day/night!


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur kept silent as he willed himself to calm down in order to get rid of the horrid blush that had overtaken his complexion. He had lost his cool composure thanks to the surprise of seeing Gilbert, his childhood friend, once again, and in front of his customer no less.

"That was just-" Arthur pauses, not knowing how to describe his friend. There were so many words that could be used but only one that could bring the German any justice. That one description brings a soft smile to the Englishman's lips. "He's just Gilbert."

Francis' response is only a hum as his mind was not so much in the present as it was on trying to identify what kind of relationship Arthur and this Gilbert had, it was nearly impossible to be able to do so though since he'd only seen them interact once.

Could Arthur actually have dated this stranger who had ruined their date?

Speaking of which.

"Arthur, let's go have some tea." Francis suggests without so much as a glance to the man he loved. Honestly, he wasn't too happy anymore. Who would be after seeing the one they were in a one-sided love with smile so happily at someone else? That someone now being Francis rival in love!

Not noticing the tension forming from Francis' thoughts and emotions, Arthur agrees to go. Had he been asked with a different tone, a shy and hopeful tone like the one Francis had almost used before they were interrupted, Arthur would have been suspicious of his customer's intentions. The thought that he let this French customer of his get too close to him had crossed the Brit's mind before but he shook it off. The pay usually made the feeling that Francis was expecting more than sex go away. As such, Francis was too preoccupied with his thoughts to even be wishing for the other to agree. Arthur finally noticed but didn't care to know.

The short walk to the cafe was silent. Uncomfortably so for the poor Frenchman who was nursing evil thoughts that only succeeded at breaking his heart. _Merde_. Who _was_ the man who seemingly held a piece of Arthur's heart?"

On the other hand, Arthur was back to his own thoughts of the wonderful rain that had not yet lightened up in the least; he knew it would end eventually.

But so do many other things.

Francis' sour mood didn't subside on its own but the thought that he was wasting precious time with his love pushed him into striking up his conversation once they were sitting in the cafe with their drinks being placed in front of them by a young waiter.

"So," he starts, albeit lamely, "who is Gilbert? An old boyfriend?" How he was able to get the latter question past the lump in his throat, he'd never know. What he did know was that he hated how seeing Arthur so happy with another had bothered him to the point it was painful.

"No, he's a childhood friend." Arthur takes a sip of his tea after responding nonchalantly as if he'd just been asked what the color of the sky was. "That's all."

If that were true, why would he call you his bedmate?  
The question went unasked;therefore, unanswered.

Somehow, the subject was dropped. The air around Francis was uneasy. There was definitely more to Arthur's answer and the blonde's jealous would help in striving to find out what the truth was.

"Anyway," the other man interrupts the silence minutes after when he's finished his tea, "I've got to go run some errands." He explains despite no there being no reason existing as to having to.

Francis wasn't his keeper.

"Getting ready to see Gilbert?" The name felt wrong leaving his mouth when all he wanted to do was to insult the man. Pitiful as it was, the blonde couldn't help it.

"And what if I am?" The response in form of a question isn't much thought of. Arthur barely had his mind with Francis and himself. In fact, it was already as if he had left and that made him happy. Finally, he could walk in the rain without anyone holding him back.

The lover of the one-sided love only scoffs, looking away from everyone and out the window; he doesn't notice when the waiter brings the check and takes Arthur's money when it is handed to him. He doesn't even noticed Arthur has left him until the bell above the door chimes, getting his attention.

Later, the waiter would explain everything has been paid for by the Frenchman's companion, and Francis will not be able to help a tiny smile from gracing his lips before he himself stands up and takes both umbrellas that Arthur had left behind in his excitement to be rained upon.

Francis would call this a date, and he'd definitely be paying on their next one.

* * *

On that night just five after eight, Gilbert Beilschmidt knocks on the front door of Arthur Kirkland's house and is greeted almost immediately, making him smirk and throw himself at the shorter man as soon as the door was opened wide enough to do so.

"Arthur!" He wraps his arms around the blushing Brit's neck and pecks him on the cheek which was warm against his lips.

"Get off me, git." The quiet voice contains no malice for Arthur did not mind the hug from a friend. It was much better than being held by some stranger who only lusted for his body and the pleasure it could give.

Arthur knew he was just like a toy to everyone. But Gilbert was different. Gilbert had never judged him from the day that the green-eyed man had come up with a way to make money. In fact, the loud friend of his had helped him out in the beginning and for that, Arthur was thankful.

The other man, not knowing of Arthur's thoughts, picks him up bridal-style just to annoy him and carries him to the couch. The house had changed, which he obviously knew it would. Gilbert had left after Arthur had established his 'career' and so he'd be able to support himself and make his home more livable with the money he would have no problem making.

Arthur was really handsome after all.

Once Gilbert sits down beside Arthur after sitting him down, the latter shoves him to the side before letting out a chuckle. The day ended up being a great one; he had known that sign of rain meant good things, but not this great. Arthur really cared about Gilbert.

"Why haven't you kept in touch with me?" Arthur's voice is soft, as he leans back against the couch and closes his eyes. Gilbert leans against him to rest his head on his shoulder.

"Sorry.." Gilbert only apologises without answering the question. The truth was something he couldn't let the other man ever find out. What would Arthur say if he found out that his best friend loved him much more than he ever believed? Surely he'd feel betrayed; he'd feel guilty for what he made the silver-haired man do without knowing how much he was hurting him. Gilbert didn't want that; he would never hurt Arthur intentionally.

"It's fine." Arthur sighs and leans his head on Gilbert's own. "Would you like some tea then? I don't have any of your 'awesome' beer and-"

Gilbert interrupts him with a chuckle. "What? No beer? I don't want any tea!" He raises his head, causing Arthur to do the same. Their gazes meet, and Gilbert is glad Arthur could never read his mind. "How about we forget the formalities, eyebrows." He grins as he brings a leg up on the couch and turns to face the other. "I've been wondering how you've been faring without me, but I see you're doing great." He motions with his hand.

"Well, idiot," Arthur crosses his arms and smiles, "I can very well take care of myself. You don't need to baby me. I swear you were just like a mother hen!"

Gilbert wraps his arms around Arthur and kisses his cheek again. "But I _had_ to take care of my best friend whom I loved so much!" His heart throbs a little at the fact that no one knew just what way he loved the man in his arms.

"Whatever." Arthur laughs along with his friend. They spend hours talking about the German's move to Germany, not once bringing up Arthur's work. They both knew that Arthur wouldn't mind speaking of it, but Gilbert had no wish to know how many men slept with Arthur on the daily basis.

When they go to bed, they lie down facing each other; shirtless and having dressed in pajama pants, both being Arthur's. Gilbert leans in to kiss Arthur not on the cheek but on the lips and is met with lips slowly moving against his. It is bittersweet because he knows that Arthur knows not about his love or any love at all. Arthur's hands, automatically, brush against the other's bare chest before running them down to Gilbert's abdomen and lower to his crotch.

The kiss is deepened slightly as Arthur palms Gilbert's hardening length. Arthur's tongue expertly brushing against the German's own and he vaguely wonders if his friend has gained any more experience since the last time they did something as intimate as this.

"Arthur." Gilbert moans almost inaudibly as the other breaks the kiss in favor looking at the German's expression when he moves one hand into his pants and underwear to grab a hold of the erection and the other hand to the back of Gilbert's neck to lightly brush his fingers down it and his upper back. It drove him crazy, and Arthur knew it. He'd always known what his best friend's weaknesses were.

"Me too." Gilbert shudders as the smaller man strokes him and gently pulls Arthur's hand away from him and sits up to remove all his clothes before helping Arthur undress. He leans over Arthur and kisses him once more as his own hand goes to Arthur's neglected member, stroking it in order to pleasure his friend and make their time a little more fun.

Once Arthur is completely hard, they end up mutually stroking each other's erections and rutting up against each other, Gilbert leaving kisses against Arthur's neck as they do so. He kisses lower until he reaches the Englishman's collarbone and bites hard enough to leave a mark before licking the hurt away.

"Arthur." He groans and receives a moan in return when his hand quickens its pace. Arthur follows example as he feels himself getting closer to cumming. The warmth coiling inside them both making their moans and groans leave them louder than before. Arthur's name and a soft moan echo through the room as they both cum in each other's hands. Most of the cum going over Arthur since he is underneath the other.

Once catching his breath, Gilbert moves off his friend to go grab some tissues from the bedside table to clean himself up after handing some to Arthur. He was hoping that his calling out of the other would be ignored or taken as a sign of friendly affection. Which shouldn't be taken as such after what they had been doing, but this was Arthur he was thinking about. Arthur didn't see sex as anything but an activity to have fun or release some tension, or at least Gilbert thought that he didn't.

Fortunately-or not- for Gilbert, Arthur just wanted to clean himself off and get some rest. He was quite used to some customers calling out his name, especially the regular ones. So when Gilbert moaned his name, he thought nothing of it.

After Arthur throws the tissues to the side and lies down on his back, Gilbert stares at him before looking away and doing the same with an inward sigh. Yes, it seemed that these intimate moments were still nothing special to Arthur. Not even with the man he'd called his best friend since practically infancy.

Still, Gilbert turns to wrap an arm around his friend's waist, gives him one more kiss, and rests his head against the pillow as he closes his eyes before eventually falling to sleep to dream of a life that could be if only his feelings were returned.

* * *

A/N: I'm so sorry. Three weeks and for this? It's just school is piling up the work and I've been searching for a job. ANYWAY, we're not at the main part of story yet so I suppose you can look forward to that. Thing is, I hadn't planned on letting Gilbert become much of the story at all. He's wormed himself in here.

Also, do you guys hate these Author notes?

edit: The ending was added at the last minute when writer's block left me. Lucky us..? Let me know if I messed up somewhere please! Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

A week had passed since Francis had last seen Arthur. He currently sat at the bar repenting the fact that he knew not enough of the man he loved-all these thoughts had been brought on by the reunion he had witnessed between Arthur and Gilbert. All he knew about Arthur was where he lived, what he did for a living, and his name and age. Hardly anything that could even deem them friends. So then, did he really love this Englishman that he paid to have sex with? Sex that he'd rather think was an act done out of love rather than done as a living by Arthur?

Surely, the Brit did not think of the sex in such a way.

Did he even know how the Frenchman felt?

No. If he had, there would be no more meetings. There would be no more nights of heaving breathing, no more sounds of skin meeting skin or sweet cries leaving both of them as they felt their pleasure escalating until their bodies could take no more.

Such perfect bliss between Francis and Arthur-mostly felt by Francis- would disappear forever.

Francis sighs before bringing up the glass he had been staring at to his lips, taking a sip of his alcoholic drink. It was foul-tasting but, then again, so was everything he ate or drank when having such thoughts of a fake love. Even his own cooking would be foul to him. That is, it _would_, if he hadn't been wallowing in self-pity and actually cooked something to eat. The past week had consisted of eating out, if he even ate, and drinking more wine, or the sort, than he should. But well, every man had a right to drown his sorrows in alcohol, or so his mind justified.

The idea of giving up and never spending his money on sex again crossed his mind, but before he could fully consider it, someone slapped his back in greeting and a loud voice sounded in his ears, making him cringe when his mind placed the owner of the voice before he actually saw the man.

"Thank you for your patronage!" Gilbert grins before taking a seat right next to the sulking blonde.

Now this was unexpected.

Francis could only stare at the unwanted newcomer before putting his glass down and looking away with a sigh. Maybe not speaking would help getting rid of the other.

"What are you looking so down for?"

No such luck.

Gilbert, much like Francis, had come to the bar to drink his problems away; he had spent most of his time with Arthur, but tonight was different. Tonight, Arthur had a customer and had said he couldn't cancel this night because he needed the money and tonight's customer was new and willing to pay a lot. It was money that the Brit needed since he hadn't had anyone else around since the night with Francis.

When the German had walked in, he hadn't immediately noticed the Frenchman. He had sat at the other side of the bar and had a few drinks before even spotting the blonde, and he'd remembered him as the man that had been with Arthur the first day he was back. Gilbert assumed this man was Arthur's friend.

"Gilbert was it?" Francis inquires as he turns fully around to rest his back on the table and stare out into the bar that was full of people laughing and enjoying their time after work. It was relatively peaceful environment though. Nobody was excessively loud.

"Yeah!" Gilbert responds before asking the name of the man he was ready to have a conversation with and hopefully find out a bit about how Arthur had been during his absence.

"Francis." As much as he dislikes this man, Francis faces the other and shakes his hand in greeting, keeping contact short. "Francis Bonnefoy."

"Nice to meet you. Arthur didn't really introduce us the other day, and he hasn't said anything about you after."

"You've," Francis clears his throat, now intrigued in the conversation. This _had_ to be his chance on finding out more the relationship between Arthur and Gilbert. "You've been with Arthur?"

"Yes, everyday really but he had," his voice softens," a customer tonight that he couldn't say no to." Gilbert looks to the bartender and orders a drink before saying more to Francis, sure that he'd already know about Arthur. It would be impossible to keep that a secret from friends. "He had spent most of his time with me, canceling every night with his other customers. Anyway," he perks up, "how did you meet Arthur?"

"I'm a customer." Francis answers bitterly as he moves to grab his drink and finish the rest of it. "That's all."

"You're lying."

"Lying? Why would I lie about this? In fact, I shouldn't even be telling you anything at all."

Tension grew between them, silence filling their ears despite life continuing around them.

"You're not his friend?" Gilbert finally spoke up. His question angering the blonde, causing him to spat out a **_non_**. Native language leaving him when anger filled his mind. The German caught the wrath in Francis' voice and eyes, but before he could say anything or figure out why the emotion was even there, Francis continued their conversation.

"How did _you_ meet Arthur?" Forget his anger, right now Francis had a lot to figure out. It could possibly help him figure out if he even truly loved Arthur. Somehow.

"I've known Arthur all my life." Gilbert responded a bit defensively before explaining. "We grew up together; been friends since the first day I moved here. I knew him before he was in this.. business of his, and I was there when he began this nonsense."

Francis said nothing, only listened as Gilbert lost himself in his thoughts. Clearly, he was forgetting who he was and who he was talking to. His emotions taking the best of him.

"I was his first."

* * *

Mediocre writing is what I do best.

Who saw that coming? Don't worry this isn't the only chapter you get. It's way too short. I just thought it'd be best to split it up.

Please correct me if I've messed up anywhere.

Thank you.


	5. Chapter 5

_"I know what I'm going to do." Arthur muttered as he moved to sit beside his best friend on the bed; he had been living with the German for months now that his parents had died and brothers moved away. Gilbert had taken him and helped him move on with his life as best as he could. The time assured Gilbert of his love for the Englishman that had been growing over the years._

_"What is it?" Gilbert asked with a tinge of worry. His friend was acting weird, had been acting weird since the German had managed to find a full-time job. Arthur had tried looking for anything, even part-time, but nothing had happened. He never received a call, and he couldn't keep taking advantage of Gilbert's kindness._

_"I'm going to," he looks to Gilbert, searching his eyes for a response, "sell myself."_

_The response wasn't pretty. Gilbert had shot up out of bed and immediately yelled for an explanation. How could Arthur even begin to believe this was a good idea? Didn't he have enough here with him?_

_"I'm taking care of everything, Arthur! You can stay as long as you like, as long as you need!" Arthur shakes his head, looking to the floor as Gilbert continues to rant before sighing. "What have I done to make you think you have to leave?" _

_It took Arthur seconds to respond and it wasn't what Gilbert wanted to hear._

_"Nothing, but I can't keep letting you take care of me. It's not fair to you, Gil." Arthur mumbled before standing and walking up to the German. "I wanted to let you know because you're my best friend and," a pause," and I need you to help me." When he didn't get a response, Arthur put his hands on Gilbert's shoulders and whispered, "I want you to be my first customer."_

_Shock was immediately registered in Gilbert's wide eyes and trembling hands as the Englishman chastely kissed him on the lips. He didn't want to respond to the kiss but it was all the German had wanted. A sweet kiss with his one and only love and yet..._

_And yet it wasn't one of love, his mind screamed the fact to him while his body urged him to comply with Arthur's request._

_"Arthur," Gilbert gently pulls away. "I can't. I-"_

_His confession is trapped in his throat as Arthur's expression turns into one of anguish and tears actually fill his eyes. Arthur hadn't cried in months now, and knowing he was the cause of them hurt Gilbert more than anything._

_"Please Gilbert," Arthur begs as he slides his hands down to hold onto his friend's hands. "Please, I don't want my first time being held to be with a stranger. I trust you; I care about you, and I know you care about me too. Please, just this once. I beg you, as my best friend please sleep with me."_

_That night, Gilbert knew he had no chance and having a real relationship with Arthur. The night should have been wonderful; it should have been his happiest, best night of his life._

_Instead, among the grunts, moans, and cries for more, Gilbert's heart was broken into pieces._

* * *

Francis orders another drink after Gilbert's confession of being Arthur's first. The German had gotten quiet after saying so and was obviously thinking of that day. The Frenchman knew he wouldn't get to know the details of why he agreed to it or what was felt when he did agree.

What he did know, was that Gilbert had looked like someone had died. Gilbert loved Arthur once, that much was obvious now, but what about now? He acted normal enough around the Brit. Not showing much of romantic love as much as caring of a friend.

"What have you done with Arthur this week?" The question leaves his lips before he can stop it and the blush that shows up on Gilbert's cheeks makes him angry. What, he still slept with Arthur? Love was still there then! Or was it that he too paid for Arthur's services?

"Are you a customer?" Gilbert shakes his head with a sigh, and responds by saying he's never paid for anything.

Damn Bastard.

Francis downs his drink before standing up, ready to leave this infuriating conversation. He was feeling jealousy that he'd never felt when seeing Arthur's other customers leaving his home. It made sense though. All those men didn't have history with the Brit. Just then, the blonde spots a familiar face and his heart jumps into his throat.

"Arthur!"

The said man turns to where the voice resonates from and raises a hand to wave before walking over to the blonde and silver-haired individuals. Gilbert having looked up when his friend's name was called out. Francis sits down now that he had a reason for staying.

"Francis, Gilbert." Arthur greets and sits down beside the German before ordering a drink and turning to the other two. "I didn't know you were friends?"

Francis opens his mouth to deny any kind of friendship with the German but Gilbert speaks up first, completely ignoring Arthur's inquiry.

"I thought you had a customer?"

Arthur laughs at this. Causing Gilbert to smile and Francis to feel a tug at his belly. It hurt to see his love being so happy when he knew it wasn't because of him. It had never been because of him.

"Yes, well, the new customer was quite a quick shooter." He laughs some more before changing the subject and cheerfully talking to Gilbert.

Jealous dangerously bubbles in Francis. He wanted to grab the Brit's hand and drag him out to spend time alone. His heart continued to hurt, but he forces himself to stay and try to converse with the two men who seemed happy to just be with each other. Still, one can only take so much pain before giving up.

Francis, being the third wheel, excused himself after a while. Gilbert and Arthur would probably be going home together anyway. Walking out of the bar with his heart threatening to stop from the painful throbbing, Francis now knew he had to keep Arthur to himself, but was only possible if he had the money. Only then could he go through with the plan that had quickly formed in his head.

* * *

I apologise.


	6. Chapter 6

The shining sun slowly woke Arthur up at around noon; making him flinch at the brightness in his room. His customer from the night before was long gone which reminded him of his favourite. His favourite customer had, in a way, disappeared but Arthur, whenever he started to wonder, forced himself to forget. After all, there were others who would pay to have him.

Even if they weren't as skilled as the Frenchman.

Not that Arthur's best nights were with the blonde but..Arthur shakes his head, again clearing his thoughts of that one man and how it felt to be held by him. Why was it so different between him and say, the customer last night?

Sighing with exasperation from his bothersome thoughts, Arthur sits up and streches his arms high above his head-giving a groan of satisfaction at the way his muscles began to loosen and relax- before sliding his legs off the bed to sit facing the window. A sunny day like today meant many people would be out and about taking advantage of the warmth before their lives returned to being in the rain. It'd take a few hours before that happened.

The Brit began his day with a quick shower before sitting at the table in the kitchen, drinking his tea as he listened to the television in the living-room that he could see from the angle he sat at.

What could he do today? There were no customers tonight but calls were sure to start coming in any time during the day. He supposed tidying up a bit would be the most productive thing he could do, but it didn't sound appealing at all. Maybe he could ring Gilbert. Oh, but the German had been busy recently. Arthur wasn't sure with what but that's what he had been told the past week.

In the end, Arthur put laundry-mostly dirty sheets- to wash while he sat with a hot cup a tea in the living-room and a new novel Gilbert had bought him recently. It was a ridiculous book filled with romantic drama. The main character being oblivious to others' feelings of love, but she meant no harm even though that's what she caused.

Arthur had just reached the climax of the story-Sarah having been an accident that left her on the verge of dying- when a knock at his door interrupted his suspenseful heart and his want of finding out if at least one of the characters would end up happy.

Looking up at the clock, Arthur sees that he's spent hours reading. It was well past six in the evening.

Francis doesn't show up to Arthur's or even call; he works as much as his boss and his own body and mind allow him to, and makes enough money to buy Arthur for a whole month. Of course, if the other allows him to which he really hopes he will. The whole past month without seeing the Englishman was almost unbearable. Francis worked to the point of exhaustion and it broke his heart even more to think that Arthur might not even miss him, might be spending time with Gilbert, and might even be falling for the German. What if Gilbert had confessed his feelings?

Still, Francis had to take the risk; he needed to go through with his plan so that he could figure out if what he felt was true love or not, and if he could possibly make Arthur see that Francis was what he needed. Francis wanted Arthur to fall in love with; he wanted to know Arthur more than he did now; he was sure even a week would be enough to learn more but not enough for love to be felt.

Arthur opens the door and is surprised by his visitor. "Francis, what a surprise, here I thought you'd had enough of me." He laughs lightly as he lets the blonde in. "Are you here for tonight? I don't have any cu-"

He's cut off by a wad of money shoved in front of his face. "Will this suffice? Is it enough to buy you for a whole month? Night and day?" Francis blurts out, his tired self not wanting to waste any more time. Besides, his nervousness was starting to take a hold of him and he didn't want to end up chickening out and only having one night when he wanted way more than that.

Forever, for example, would be rather nice.

Perfect even.

"Day and night?" Arthur's bushy eyebrows rise up in surprise. What was Francis thinking? "Is this what you've been up to this past month?" He carefully takes the money from Francis' hand, not believing how much was being offered to him.

"Oui," Francis smiles cautiously as a feeling of hope that all his nights of staying late at work would have been done in vain. The fact that Arthur had taken the money was a good sign, and now that he was looking through the money Francis knew that the other would not be able to refuse.

"Well," Arthur pauses, unsure. "I would be crazy not to accept this much but-"

Before he can hesitantly refuse or accept-neither men were sure of what the answer would have been, the Englishman is cut off by a 'bon' and a tired, yet ecstatic Frenchman walking into his living-room to get comfortable.

"A month it is then." Francis yawns, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "I'm glad you accepted."

Arthur stares at the man on his couch before looking to the money still in his that he was going to outstretch to hand Francis his money back.

Well, surely this wouldn't be bad.

Surely the money would be worth all the trouble this was sure to cause.

(He could lose his other customers if he didn't see them for a month, but Arthur barely even thought of this possibility since his mind was on having his favourite customer back. It was odd.)

And with that in mind, Arthur turns to put the money away and go into the kitchen to make some fresh tea as if nothing has happened. Nothing at all.

* * *

AN: Nothing really happens in this chappie, huh? What do you think is going to happen?

By the way, I still don't know if the end will be happy or not. But there is a m-rated scene coming up that I wrote at the beginning before even posting the first chapter. I love it (/7\)

Review responses for guests:

ChocolateCake- Thank you so much! Your review made me extremely happy. I'm glad you went into such detail and enjoy the story so far! Hope I don't disappoint! I do apologize for making you wait even though you asked me not to..

Mina.N- I wonder if you're still reading. I promise I'll keep this story until the end! I will not abandon it!

blackcat- 4 A.M is best time for reading fanfiction. Especially FrUK!

Other responses should be replied to in PM's

Thank you for reading! Sorry it's taken me a while, I've gotten a job and it's been difficult on me to go to school and then work and come home to do homework. I'm not used to it and I'm rather weak. Still, I will not abandon this story!

Have a nice day/night!


	7. Chapter 7

In the first week, Francis became adjusted to Arthur's schedule-minus the sleeping with strange men of course- and his way of doing things. With every phone call the first week, the Frenchman realises more and more just how popular Arthur really is.

"Yes, I'll be unavailable for a month. My apologies." Arthur rolls his eyes as he sits on his bed, trying to explain to yet another customer that he couldn't be bought for the time being-he did put it in nicer terms, never having been completely comfortable with saying he was bought by others as if he could really be owned. It was only with Francis that Arthur even said it so crudely.

When he does listen in, Francis finds that Arthur speaks politely to his customers as he does with him but resolves to make sure that that would change. There is no chance in Hell that the blonde will let all their time be spent with fake politeness leaving their lips and directing their actions outside the bedroom.

Arthur, expects to at least have sex more often than not in the time that Francis will, apparently, be living with him.

(Francis had refused to leave, reasoning that it'd be a waste of time and money that he didn't have to leave and come back everyday)

Strangely, though, Francis doesn't want to have sex with Arthur the first night or any other night during his stay. It makes the Englishman frustrated and annoyed, but being the gentleman he is, he keeps his politeness up and even accepts the fact that all the other wanted to do was sleep beside him in his bed. Still, this request was met with raised eyebrows and a very suspicious look.

What had Francis bought him for if not for sex?

_Although_ the warmth that Arthur feels in Francis' arms when he wakes is actually quite nice, and maybe he had actually missed this the past month that the Frenchman had disappeared.

The fact that Francis could have only made so much money by working day and night for the past month never occurred to Arthur.

If it had, he might have been more cautious.

* * *

During the second week, Arthur shows Francis more of his personality to him. A grumpy man who dares not show just how much he cares for others. The changes in Arthur's character are slow and almost impossible to catch at first had Francis not always been watching the man for whom his heart desired.

The Briton's sighs became more frequent, his eyebrows furrow more often than not whenever Francis tries to chit-chat with him about anything from the weather to where he grew up. To Arthur, the latter was not any of the frog's business.

Francis notices the nickname immediately despite the fact that the smaller man calls him such under his breath.

"What?" Francis lets an unsure chuckle escape his lips, "what did you call me, Arthur?'

The man stops in his kitchen doorway, tensing up and an awkward clearing of the throat resonates through the room as he turns around to try and look as civil as ever. He fails miserably when the Frenchman's expression changes to that of smirk as he starts to see right through the Englishman.

_Interesting._

Arthur's cheeks turn a shade of pink that Francis had only seen when having sex and when he had first met Gilbert. The blonde feels great pride, pleasure, and happiness at the sight since it was him himself who was causing the Briton to lose the face of a stuck-up middle-aged man (and he didn't even have to be trust into him his body during an intimate night and cause him plasure!) and decides that he'll continue to do any teasing in his power to see Arthur reacting differently from his usual self.

"I-" Arthur's eyes narrow and the glare sent the smirking man's way is caused mostly out of embarrassment than anger. "I called you a frog, you stupid git," and with that, Francis watches Arthur walk away from him with a huff.

His smirk grows into a full-grown grin before softening into a smile.

_Interesting indeed._

* * *

As it turns out, Gilbert has decided that tonight, the last day of the second week with Arthur, is a night that he absolutely had to see his closest friend- and secretly old love.

Of course, Arthur decides that the German is absolutely right and takes into account that Francis does not sleep with him so there will be no problem with him leaving him alone for a night. The Frenchman has no reason to care after all, and he will not destroy his house or steal from him. Of that, Arthur is sure. Unbeknownst to his conscious self, he was starting to trust the blonde a whole lot more. Tonight would be fun, he'd actually missed the loud voice and laughter of Gilbert.

He could not have been more wrong for the moment he is ready to leave and bid Francis a good night, he is questioned about his plans.

"I don't see how that's any of your business, but I'll humor you. I'm meeting Gilbert tonight."

Dissatisfaction grows in Francis' heart and a painful tug is felt in his belly. "I bought you." He all but shouts, crossing his arms and looking just as authoritative as he can muster. To his displeasure, Arthur copies his stand and defiance shines in the Brit's lovely emerald eyes.

God, his eyes always shows so much emotion only succeeding in making the Englishman even more attractive to Francis.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't be stupid, I bought you for a whole month and you should honor that!" Francis steps closer to the other, a glare directed into Arthur's eyes daring him to continue defying him.

"You don't own me." Arthur calmly-too calmly for comfort- states and turns around because, honestly, he is beyond angry with Francis and it isn't worth it to spend any more time arguing when someone important to him was waiting at the bar.

Francis, on the other hand, isn't done and moves quickly to stop Arthur at the door, "Stay."

"Fuck off!" Arthur, finally having enough of the strange way the other was acting, yells, shoving Francis away and opening and closing the door with a stronger force than necessary.

The door slams and Francis, with new found anger, arrives at the conclusion that not everything about Arthur's personality is great. His stubbornness, Francis finds, is extraordinarily irritating.

* * *

AN: Okay, so I would apologise but I'm sure you're tired of hearing it. I'm always tired from work and just life in general and this chapter is crap I know.

On the other hand, first two weeks and a fight! Their first fight! Let me know if you see any mistakes and whatnot.

...I'm sorry.

Have a good day/night!

I don't think breaks show up on mobileFF, and that upsets me.


	8. Chapter 8

Grumbling to himself about grumpy men with overly bushy eyebrows and annoying pale men with silver hair (really, it was unnatural), Francis grabs his coat and follows after Arthur. If he was utterly sure about anything consisting of Arthur's life, it was the fact that he always went to the same bar to meet Gilbert.

Half an hour had passed since the Englishman had left in huff and the time had not helped better the Frenchman's mood. If anything, it had made it worse and there was nothing that could make it better as long as Arthur was gone doing God knows what with the loud man he called a best friend.

Oh, how Francis' blood boils just at the thought!

Couldn't Arthur figure anything out himself? Couldn't he see that what Francis wanted was to spend time with him, get to know him, and possibly manage to create a loving relationship between the two of them? It would better their lives. Francis knows so. Oh, but the trail of love was never an easy one.

Or so Francis wanted to agree because, otherwise, it just meant that Arthur was not meant to love Francis the way Francis was sure he loved the Englishman.

To be completely honest, love like this had never been felt by this certain Frenchman. It was new, and it was the most amazing feeling as well as the worst.

Francis was hurt, infuriated, frustrated; and it was all caused by one single person who refused to see what was right in front of him.

At the bar, Arthur- having pushed away his annoyed feeling caused by Francis- laughs and leans into Gilbert who smiles at him and continues to tell him more about his past month with this woman he had met while he'd been out trying to find something to send his brother back in Germany.

Before Gilbert can reach out to put his hand on Arthur's shoulder as to make sure he won't fall over, Arthur's laughter stops when a different hand touches him.

The German stares as Arthur's swung around by his arm and pulled off his seat into a rough looking kiss. His friend tries to push away and the kisser's eyes are scrunched up in anger. Again, before Gilbert can do anything; the tense moment passes, the Frenchman's whole body relaxes when the feeling of lips moving back against his starts, and the fighting against him stops.

Arthur is given no time to say anything to Gilbert or to even realise what is truly happening before he is pulled out of the bar, a tight grip on his hand made by a slightly bigger one.

"Oi!"

"Arthur please," Francis interrupts as he keeps walking at a brisk pace, making sure that the man with him does not pull away and warns him not to by giving his hand a tighter squeeze, "I don't want to argue with you out on the streets. Let's talk when we're back at home."

Arthur's not completely sober mind only makes him placid at the other's tone of voice. He couldn't believe the Frenchman was still mad over nothing, but he didn't dare say anything now since he had never heard Francis so serious. He had never even known the blonde could be so serious!

Who knows what else he didn't know about the man who was taking him home; who knows what he is capable of? An unpleasant feeling grows in Arthur's heart and it causes his mind to vision many scenarios where the Frenchman could cause him harm.

Somewhere deep inside, Arthur knows Francis would never do anything like that to him. He had always been so gentle no matter what they were doing. Even when Francis spoke to Arthur, it was gentle.

Each man is too preoccupied with their thoughts to say anything more on their way to Arthur's home and, once there, neither takes the first step into talking about everything that had transpired since their fight began or even since they had met.

If anything was said now, there would only be regret.

So instead, they ignore their aching hearts and follow Francis into the bedroom where they both lie on either side of the bed to face away from each other. It is true that the blonde feels better to have the other with him; it is true that Arthur is no longer mad, only confused. It is also true that their stubbornness went a longer way than it should.

Ten minutes pass before Arthur's breathing slows down and Francis turns to find that the Englishman has turned around to face him and looks back at him with sleepy eyes.

The smile that graces the Frenchman's lips has many feelings behind it, but Arthur can't read them and Francis' will not admit them.

The next morning, Francis still finds Arthur and himself in the same position they went to sleep the night before- in each other's arms- and his hope that his plan is actually working grows.

* * *

AN: Is there anyone that actually thinks this will have a happy ending? Not that I'm saying it won't, but I'm not saying it will either.

Is this story going to shit or is it just me.

I'M SO SORRY

Have a great night/day!

EDIT: Also, I meant to thank windalchemist001 for giving me the idea for this chapter. This wasn't even supposed to exist and I was struggling to think of what to write because the next chapter might have been even more of a bore.

But yeah two or three more chapters, depending on what I decide the ending should be. I have two endings in mind! Not the next, but the one after that should have smut in it. The smut chapter I was talking about that I liked a lot because woah dramarama.

Bye lovelies!


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Trigger warning, rape-type scene

* * *

The third week, Francis began to know what made Arthur who he is. It both hurts and thrills him.

There is still some leftover tension the second day of the third week since only two days had passed since their fight and no talking had been done in order to fix things between them. Now, Arthur sits on the living-room floor with his back leaning against the couch that Francis currently occupies. Both men have their third glass of wine in their hands, encouraged to drink more and more by the feeling of the tension slipping away.

Francis wonders if he should speak first; but what would he say that could explain his actions other than having paid for the Englishman's time? In the meantime, Arthur wonders how he should justify his leaving without sounding like he wouldn't honour his commitments. In the end, Arthur speaks first.

"Had it been anyone else, I wouldn't have left." He speaks softly after the alcohol and the silence put him at ease. "But Gilbert is my friend; he isn't just some customer ringing me up for a night of sex."

_He's important to me._

The unspoken words are understood by Francis. But had it been any other man, he wouldn't have been as angry. Arthur had yet to realise that and there is doubt he ever would.

"I had a happy childhood. My parents loved my brothers and me, despite our rowdiness." Arthur grins at this for a mere second before closing his eyes and leaning his head back on the edge of the couch. Francis' knee touches his face, and he leans into it the tiniest bit. "My mum and dad turned out to be what kept us all together. After they died, Gil took me in. Without him, I don't think I would have known what to do. At first, I always assumed he felt obligated to help me."

Francis stays quiet and wills his heart to stop hurting because of the obvious care and love Arthur had for the German.

"But that wasn't the case." Arthur finishes the rest of his drink before continuing. "Gilbert always cared for me; he has always been my best friend and the only one I could confide in. If anything, I was the worst for doubting his sincere friendship."

Opening his eyes as he sits up and clears his throat, the Brit continues with a less serious tone masking his voice. "So after he found himself a job and I hadn't, I figured I couldn't continue being a burden to him."

There is only silence once again, Francis processes everything in his mind and recognizes that he, himself, was becoming closer to Arthur. The Briton trusts him now. Maybe he could become important to Arthur as well. Well, trust should be a two way road. In this case, Francis knows it already is.

"My mother," the blonde begins, looking straight ahead as he envisions his past, "believed in true love. She was the happiest woman, even after my father left her. She used to say_, 'What we had was true love, you're a gift from that love we had._'" Francis smiles softly, "My mother struggled but smile through all her days and I came to the conclusion that if true love made her happy, then my soulmate would complete me."

"But you haven't found them?" Arthur questions but is given no reply. Francis had given his hints throughout the whole month. Everything was up to Arthur now.

The rest of the third week is spent with the two men revealing more of themselves to each other. They already knew one another's bodies.

At present, they are getting to know their hearts.

* * *

The last week, Francis knows for sure that he is undeniably in love with Arthur.

"Yes," Francis whispers to himself as he sits alone in the kitchen while the Brit takes a shower upstairs, "as a matter of fact, I have found my soulmate." Part of Francis' plan had worked. All that is left is to figure out if he has managed to win Arthur's heart.

Tonight is their last night together, the month was over, but Francis still feels it is not the right time to tell Arthur. He will not confess unless he has some proof that the object of his affections loves him back. Otherwise, he could lose Arthur forever. Yet, the Parisan can not shake off the feeling that something is bound to happen on this night that he will once again bed Arthur after a whole month of not doing so.

* * *

"Mm." Arthur's head is turned to the side, allowing Francis to kiss and bite and just /taste/ his delicate, pale skin on his neck. The blonde pulls back to look at the man under him and Arthur opens his eyes before seductively smirking. That was the thing about Arthur, everything about him was extremely alluring. He knows how to get others to please him.

Lazily, Arthur brings his arms up to snake around Francis' neck. "What's wrong?" He hums, his smirk still firmly in place.

And Francis can't help but keep staring into Arthur's eyes before he blurts out the truth, "Je t'aime." He resorts back to his native language, his mind not realising what he was saying or to whom. Had it, he wouldn't have uttered a word of his feelings that he'd been hiding all along.

The Englishman stays quiet though the smirk has changed into a thin line; he decides to shrug the other's words off. "Hurry, Francis, I have another customer tonight." He brings up his job to remind him that his paid hours were almost up, hoping Francis would stop with this nonsense.

But his words have a different effect.

Tonight, as destiny would have it and just as his heart foresaw earlier , was different, Francis was different because-despite his earlier feelings- he couldn't let this moment go. Maybe he isn't sure how Arthur feels for him, but when would he ever now that Arthur would be surrounded by different men if nothing was admitted?

"Non, not tonight." Francis murmurs, grabbing Arthur's wrists to hold them above his love's head, as if he would escape. "Never again." He has had enough of Arthur sleeping with others for the sake of living.

And Arthur doesn't escape, doesn't even try to as Francis roughly takes a hold of his length, stroking until the Englishman is writhing under him, about to cum. Except Francis doesn't let him as he takes a hold of the base of his cock. "Francis." Arthur almost whimpers, the need to cum being too great for him, it was almost painful. "Let go."

Francis had never denied Arthur anything; he'd been a giving lover even with Arthur being the man who was paid to give pleasure. Eventually, the blonde does let go of the other and watches him reach his orgasm; watches Arthur panting and it makes him crazy knowing others had seen the same thing and will be if he doesn't get the Brit to understand his love for him is the real thing, it was true love. Turning the smaller man over, Francis, without warning, thrusts all of his cock into Arthur and finds that he enjoys the scream leaving the other and, so that he can hear more, begins to move his hips leaving no time for the other to get adjusted. The fear of losing Arthur along with the wanting and needing, has made Francis lose all self-control.

The nights before, that Francis had bought for no sex had left Arthur really tight, only making this experience even more painful."Ah! Stop! Arthur yells into his pillow that he manages to tightly wrap his arms around but the other continues for who knows how long. Arthur just waits until he isn't being used anymore.

Francis groans, reaching his limit inside the other and slumps on top of Arthur who had dropped down to rest. They both breathe heavily and Francis gently, unlike the sex, pulls out of the Englishman. The only noise in the room consists of heaving breathing and panting. Francis begins to feel guilty, an apology is at the tip of his tongue as he moves to pull the other to him but Arthur stands up, flinching a bit in pain and wraps himself in one of his robes- something he has never done around Francis, because he was never truly felt uncomfortable around him. "Get out."

"..What?"

"Get out, you've had your fun for tonight and I don't want you here. As I said before, I'll be having someone over.

"Arthur..please..I meant it, I love y-"

"I don't care!" He keeps his back to Francis, this isn't how it is supposed to happen, the frog couldn't love someone as dirty as him. "Get out." his voice is cold and his expression is that of a brokenhearted man.

Maybe a sob or two escape him after he hears Francis' desperate pleads, continues to yell at him to get out, and hears his front door close and maybe he finds himself ringing Gilbert up hours later because now he could only get comfort from someone he hadn't just kicked out of his home and possibly his life.

* * *

AN: Goodness gracious I hope I edited this out right. Let me know if you find mistakes.  
You guys better like this, I was inspired on my way back to the beach and had to write really tiny on a small envelope in the back of a moving car. I could barely read it, it's so late right now and I'm exhausted.

This is the m-rated scene I was telling you guys about that I liked a lot BUT because it was actually the first scene I wrote of this story I had to change it somewhat so that it would make sense with the whole thing. So I don't know how I feel about it now.

Thanks for reading and sticking with this story despite me taking forever to update! You're great!

Have a good day/night!

Reviews are great loved and welcomed! I will reply to them later on!


	10. Chapter 10

**A****N**: Before you read the final chapter of Loving a Lover, I'd like to apologise from the bottom of my heart for not warning you of the last chapter. I didn't realise it was actually a 'rape' scene because I guess that's not what I intended it to be. Again, I'm really really sorry. Please forgive me

* * *

The first thing Francis does the day after his confession is a mistake. He is humiliated, heartbroken, and lost; he decides that there is no way he can go see Arthur so soon after his heart has been torn to pieces by his one and only.

"There is time. He'll come around." Francis convinces himself over a bottle of cheap wine.

This decision costs him.

A week later finds Francis at Arthur's door, incessantly knocking and calling out to the Brit. He says they need to talk; he says that Arthur must listen to him before committing to leaving the Frenchman out of his life.

No one answers the door and no one enters or leaves the house the rest of the day as Francis sits out on the steps. Not even a customer shows up and this, though it should comfort him, scares Francis most of all.

* * *

"Where is he?" Francis grabs a hold of Gilbert's coat collar, shaking him almost madly, "Where is Arthur?"

Francis had expected to find the German in the bar where he had heard of the pale man's love for Arthur. There had been doubt that he'd actually see Gilbert, though, especially after the man had disappeared for a while-not including the one night that he'd had his first fight with the Briton.

But now there was hope that he would finally find Arthur after weeks of trying. Soon, he'd know his love's whereabouts and they would be able to fix things between them and start their life together without lies and the need of money to keep them together.

Gilbert's look of pity crushes Francis' hopes before the too calm man answers. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since he called me."

"Called you?" Francis lets go of Gilbert and sits back, allowing the other to take a seat before him. "When? What did he say?"

Gilbert clears his throat and Francis swears the man before him could not be Gilbert for he is too solemn to be so. "The night that you hurt him."

Francis' heart twists painfully. Could it be possible to die from this heartbreak?

"He called me, begged me to show up at his house. Arthur told me what you did; told me about your confession and his dismissal of you and your feelings."

"And then?"

"I couldn't take his crying anymore. I," Gilbert's hand forms a fist and his jaw clenches," I told him, Francis. I finally told Arthur I loved him."

Gilbert continues to speak, imagining the night and Arthur's expression when he'd finally heard of his love. It is for naught though because Francis isn't listening anymore. If Arthur had to choose between Francis, a man who bought him night after night, or Gilbert, a friend who had taken care of him and loved him for years, there was no doubt Arthur would choose the German. Arthur did care about him a lot after all.

* * *

For months, Francis goes through the motions of living. For a brokenhearted man, he seems to be doing well to anyone who interacts with him. Inside his home, it's a different story. Francis stays in bed for most of his mornings-sometimes he doesn't leave his bedroom at all- when he has nothing to do. If he indeed still cares about something, it's his job and the money it brings him.

_Would Arthur come back if I can buy him back? _The desperate Frenchman wonders as he finally leaves his bed at two in the afternoon on a cloudy, quiet Saturday.

Francis puts his hair up in a messy low ponytail after brushing it and changes into a too large t-shirt and sweatpants. He eats a piece of fruit and is about to look through the rest of his kitchen in hopes of finding some wine or maybe something decent to eat.

It doesn't really matter, as long as he's doing something to distract him if even for a few seconds.

Suddenly there is a knock at his door and he is tempted to ignore it but it could be his cousin trying to help him again in any way he is capable of. Someone to speak with would be a very nice distraction every now and again.

"Coming!" Francis yells out as the person knocks again and he yawns as he walks to the door, "Yes?"

Now, had Francis found the bottle of wine and had poured himself a glass, he would have dropped it in shock and the glass would have shattered deafeningly loud in the otherwise silent house. Right in front of the Frenchman stood the only Englishman that had ever mattered to him.

"Arthur." Francis breathes out, managing to hold himself back from pulling Arthur close and never letting him go again.

Arthur gives a nod in greeting, his expression staying committed to hiding whatever he might be feeling at the moment. "May I come in?"

Francis nods and steps aside.

Once Arthur is inside, he turns to the other and speaks before the Frenchman can even close the door. In fact, his words make the other stop for a second, even his breathing stops but he composes himself.

"Gilbert loved me, and I loved him." Francis slowly lets the door close but doesn't turn to face Arthur. The words are painfully piercing his heart, his soul.

"I hurt him, Francis. All these years and I asked him to be my first. I had told him it was because he was my best friend but the truth is, I honestly loved him but I didn't think he loved me like that. I didn't believe I was good enough for true feelings of love much less when I was going to be selling myself."

"Do you still love him?" Francis finally speaks and even though his voice is barely above a whisper, it sounds like the loudest yelling in their life. Everything is too still as if the world had stopped turning in order to find them time. Time that is only breaking Francis even more than he already was.

"I am nothing but a whore, Francis. My love for Gilbert must have been nothing," Arthur pauses, taking a deep breath, "compared to the love I feel for you because," he swallows, "because I don't want to lose you."

"I want to quit selling my body. I want to belong to my _soulmate_." Arthur finally admits that yes, Francis had meant more to him than just a mere customer for longer than Francis would probably ever know. All along, Arthur had felt a connection with the Frenchman and he wasn't willing to lose that. It took him months to realise he it, but better late than sorry. Right?

Francis turns halfway before stopping, not daring to hope this is anything but a dream.

"I love you too." Arthur responds to Francis' confession months late and only hopes that the other still feels the same.

There is stillness-a stillness that causes Arthur's heart to clench and Francis' mind to race- until Francis finally turns to look at Arthur who has been watching him carefully, awaiting rejection as cruel as the refusal he'd given the Frenchman. Maybe Francis had figured out that he didn't want a whore after all.

It shocks Arthur to see that Francis is smiling brighter than he had ever had the pleasure to witness. The happiness that the blonde feels can be seen clearly through his eyes and Arthur can't help but smile back as his heart begins to calm down.

"You're not a whore, Arthur." Francis' smiles becomes a little sad, "You're my _soulmate_, my _beloved_, _my Arthur_."

Arthur's breathing hitches in his throat and tears fill his eyes for he only always wanted to be told he wasn't as dirty as he believed he was. Francis doing so is what Arthur actually needed- as he now knows.

"Never," Francis speaks as he walks closer to Arthur, wrapping his arms around him once he is close enough, "Never leave me again."

* * *

**AN**: It's a happy ending after all and not as vague as I had first made it in the rough draft.

Thank you for everyone who followed, reviewed, and favourited. I hope it was worth following.

Be happy, lovelies.


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